


April Showers

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 06:43:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14467179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: A/N:Written for Slythindor100's prompt # 216: Rain theme, and for Enchanted_Jae's monthly drabble challenge # 146: April Showers.Beta(s):Sevfan and Emynn.Disclaimer:The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.





	April Showers

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Written for Slythindor100's prompt # 216: Rain theme, and for Enchanted_Jae's monthly drabble challenge # 146: April Showers. 
> 
> **Beta(s):** Sevfan and Emynn.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

~

April Showers

~

“Ugh, I can’t believe it’s raining _again_.” Draco, standing by the window, stared morosely out at the rainy landscape.

“It’s April, that’s what April does.” Pansy didn’t even look up from her book. “Why don’t you go to your room and take a nap?” 

Draco huffed, collapsing onto the sofa beside her. “I can’t.” 

“Why not?” Pansy, still perusing her book, turned a page. 

“Potter could be there,” Draco muttered. 

Pansy hummed. “I should think that would be a good thing.” 

“How is that a good thing?” Draco cried. “It’s horrible! Not only am I being forced to share a room with him during this mad ‘eighth year’ experiment, but people expect me to be _nice_ to him when all I want is—”

“Is to shag him through his mattress because you fancy him?” Pansy finally looked up, pinning Draco with her gaze. 

Draco winced. “What? No!” 

Pansy snorted. “It’s fine if you lie to me, Draco, Merlin knows I’m used to it, but you really shouldn’t lie to yourself.” Snapping her book shut, she stood. “And I think it’s the perfect day for a nap, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to _my_ room…” 

Draco, speechless, glared after her, and once she was gone, he crossed his arms over his chest and watched the rain hit the window. “I do _not_ fancy Potter,” he muttered under his breath. “How could I? Stupid speccy git with his stupid green eyes and stupid hair and those ridiculous muscles! Who has muscles like those anyway? They’re stupid.”

The rain pounded against the window harder as if agreeing. 

Shifting into a reclining position, Draco continued muttering, closing his eyes. “And then there’re his legs. Stupid, muscular legs! And his back, it’s stupid, too. _And_ his shoulders! Who has shoulders like that? No decent person! Potter. Hah! Even his hands are stupid. And as for his arse, it’s completely—”

“Let me guess,” someone said. “Stupid?” 

Shrieking, Draco opened his eyes and sat up, looking straight into Potter’s amused face. “What the fuck, Potter?” he spat, heart racing. “How dare you come in here and eavesdrop on me?” 

Potter, clad in his Quidditch uniform, was standing there, leaning against his broom. Raising an eyebrow, he said, “Well, it’s our shared common room, so I’m allowed in, and as for eavesdropping…You were talking out loud.” 

_Shit._ “And you make it a habit to listen to people when they’re clearly not speaking to you?” snapped Draco. 

“You said my name,” said Potter, tone mild. “That tends to get a bloke’s attention.” 

“Oh.” Deflating, Draco looked down at his hands. “Well I wasn’t speaking to you, so you can move along.” 

Potter hummed. “Actually, I don’t think I can.” Stooping down on his haunches, he looked into Draco’s face. “You see, I’ve been thinking about your ‘stupid’ bits, too.” 

Draco’s head popped up. “What?” 

Potter smiled and it made Draco’s insides flutter. “Come on,” he said, standing up and extending his hand to Draco. “Let go back to our room and talk.” 

“Talk?” Draco scowled. “About what?” 

Potter shrugged. “About how stupid we think each think the other is.” 

Accepting Potter’s hand, Draco stood, ending up much closer to Potter than intended. His breath hitched. “Is that a line?” he breathed. “Because, if so, it’s terrible.” 

Laughing softly, Potter said, “Well, my flirting skills are shit, so you can add that to my list of my stupid qualities if you like.” 

Draco smiled despite himself. “Is that what you’re supposed to be doing?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re right, your flirting ability is stupid.” 

Potter, still holding Draco’s hand, squeezed it. “Maybe you can give me some pointers?” 

Rolling his eyes, Draco pulled Potter towards the stairs that led to their room. “I suppose I’ll have to,” he said. “Someone has to do something.” 

Once they were in their room, however, Draco let Potter’s hand go and walked over to his bed, where he sat down. Behind him he could hear the rain against the window, and it soothed him. 

Potter, meanwhile, stood his broom up against the wall and began shucking his kit. “Hope you don’t mind if I change before we talk,” he said. “I feel a bit manky in these clothes even though I did wash after practice.” 

Draco, mouth dry, managed to wave a hand. “Whatever.” 

Turning away, Potter stripped, and as his skin came into view, Draco almost groaned. Maybe Pansy was right. Maybe he had been lying to himself.

“Lying to yourself about what?” asked Potter, stepping into jeans. 

Draco froze. “I…did I say that aloud?” 

“Afraid so.” Potter Summoned a T-shirt from a pile of clothes in the corner and pulled it on over his head. Then, sitting down on his own bed, he eyed Draco. “So.” 

Draco exhaled. “So.” 

Potter sighed. “We were doing better downstairs.” 

“We were holding hands,” Draco said.

Slowly, Potter smiled. “You think that will help? Okay.” And standing up, he walked over to Draco’s bed, sat down beside him, and took his hand, interlacing their fingers. 

Warmth moved up Draco’s arm, making him tremble. 

“Are you cold?” asked Potter, expression concerned. He glanced behind them at the window. “This castle can be draughty. Here.” He tugged Draco to his feet. “It’s warmer in my bed.” 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Now _there’s_ a line. How many blokes have to said that to?” 

Snorting, Potter led Draco to his bed and sat down, pulling Draco down beside him. “None. Now, time to talk?” 

“About what?” asked Draco, not meeting his eyes. 

“We could start with why I’m so stupid.” Amusement danced in Potter’s eyes. 

Draco huffed. “How should I know?” He smirked. “You just are.” 

“Hm.” Leaning in, Potter whispered, “You know what I thought when I first saw you?”

“What?” 

“How very pale and pointy you are.” 

Draco inhaled sharply. “You—”

“But over the years,” continued Potter, “I decided I like pale, and you’ve become less pointy.” He nuzzled Draco’s jaw. 

Draco shivered. “I thought you had ridiculous hair.” Moving his hand up, Draco slid his fingers into Potter’s hair, which was as soft as it looked. 

“Mmm.” Potter caught Draco’s earlobe in his teeth. “I can’t argue with that.” 

Relaxing, Draco tilted his head back, wordlessly encouraging Potter. “Of course you can’t. It’s true. What…else did you think of me?” 

Drawing back, Potter looked him in the eyes. “I thought you were brave at your trial.” 

“I was only brave because you were there,” confessed Draco. “I’d been feeling sorry for myself, and then I remembered all you went through, and—”

“And decided I was stupid?” Potter murmured. 

Draco sighed. “ _Obviously_. But you’re the sort of stupid who saves people, so I figured I could be stupid, too. Depending on the circumstances.” 

Releasing Draco’s hand, Potter slipped it up to cradle the back of Draco’s neck. “Clearly we’re both idiots.” 

“Clearly,” agreed Draco moving his face closer.

“Which means this is stupid, too?” Potter asked before sealing his mouth over Draco’s. 

Draco moaned, opening his mouth and allowing Potter’s tongue inside. Sharing breath, they kissed, hands roaming, chests heaving, and when they finally drew apart, Draco’s hand was under Potter’s shirt, pressing against warm skin, and he was panting. Resting his forehead against Potter’s, he shook his head. “Colossally stupid. But it’s raining, so what else is there to do?” 

Smiling, Potter drew him down onto his bed and began fumbling with Draco’s flies. “It’s a perfect day for napping.” 

“Is that what we’re calling this?” Draco smirked as Potter blushed and stopped. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to—”

“Shut up, Potter. Don’t be stupid,” Draco huffed. Pulling Potter’s hands back to his flies, he slung a leg over Potter’s thigh, resting his head on Potter’s shoulder and closing his eyes. “Of course we won’t do anything either of us isn’t into. But since I suspect we’ll both be into similar things, we can take our time. Especially on a day like this.” Deliberately, Draco moved his hands to cup Potter’s arse.

Potter chuckled, fiddling with Draco’s buttons. “Sounds smart to me.” 

They took their time getting naked, and when they finally were, Potter rolled on top of Draco, staring down at him. Outside, the rain was pounding down, thunder rumbling in the distance. “What do you want?” he whispered. 

Draco spread his legs, heat spiralling inside him when he saw Potter’s eyes darken with desire. “Fuck me.” 

Potter hissed, stretching out his hand, and a moment later, caught a jar. Coating his fingers with lubricant, he slid a finger into Draco, who closed his eyes and moaned. By the time he got three in, Draco was writhing, his hands clutching Potter’s hips. 

“I think you’re ready,” Potter said, removing his fingers. 

Opening his eyes, Draco swallowed. “Yes.” 

Potter slicked his cock before draping Draco’s legs over his shoulders and positioning himself. “Ready?” 

“Yes!” 

Potter was big, the stretch was just on the right side of pain, but Draco relished it as he slowly increased his slow strokes. Potter was filling the empty places inside him, was sending shocks of sharp pleasure shooting up his spine, was making sparks go off in Draco’s brain. 

Before he even realised, Draco was arching his back and coming, his cock spurting untouched. 

The moment Draco finished, Potter growled, clasped Draco’s hips, and pounded into him. 

Lying there, Draco watched Potter’s face, saw the moment he was going to come, cupped his face with his hand as he shook through his orgasm, and wrapped his arms around Potter when he collapsed on top of him. 

They lay there several minutes, Draco recovering his breath. 

“That wasn’t too stupid, was it?” asked Potter once he could speak.

Draco laughed. “No, it wasn’t. It definitely wasn’t.” 

“I love April rain,” whispered Potter, and with a yawn, he fell asleep. 

Draco smiled up at the canopy over Potter’s bed, listened to his soft breathing and to the rain, and said a silent thank you to Pansy. 

~


End file.
